


K&H

by birdcat



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, One Shot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, this is DISGUSTINGLY fluffy and cheesy but i figure thats the appeal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6371998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdcat/pseuds/birdcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For six months of their first year at Karasuno, Kageyama and Hinata were stuck next to each other biology class.</p><p>Their teacher was the one responsible for their placement, as he’d been clued in to their bickering nature by a scheming Sugawara and soon resolved to get them to work out their problems--by forcing them to sit next to each other. He took the two of them aside one day and explained the situation, and with great glee led them back to their now-shared desk.<br/>“Learn to be friends, will you?”</p><p>The two boys looked at each other, then at him, and shook their heads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	K&H

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is so OLD i wrote it in like december on a whim and im not totally Satisfied with it but im directing all my energy to my ski au so there's no hope of this getting proper revisions/expansion
> 
> it's not betaed but diligently self-edited so the syntax/grammar errors and typos should be tolerable
> 
> enjoy the tooth-rotting fluff!!!

For six months of their first year at Karasuno, Kageyama and Hinata were stuck next to each other biology class.

Their teacher was the one responsible for their placement, as he’d been clued in to their bickering nature by a scheming Sugawara and soon resolved to get them to work out their problems: by forcing them to sit next to each other. He took the two of them aside one day and explained the situation, and with great glee led them back to their now-shared desk.

“Learn to be friends, will you?”

The two boys looked at each other, then at him, and shook their heads.

They equaled their teacher in the resolve to completely ignore the other, and did not willingly exchange words for the entire duration of those six months in that class. Hinata stared out the window and Kageyama drew volleyballs with faces in his notebook. If Kageyama missed hearing what the homework assignment was, he was unable to ask Hinata, and would be turning up the next day empty-handed. It was, perhaps, a secret agreement of theirs to not appease the professor in the slightest, at any cost, and not speak to each other even when it was obviously necessary.

Theirs was strictly a work relationship, as Hinata saw it. They played volleyball together, and worked out together, but nothing else. It wasn’t necessary, or beneficial—it’s not like they enjoyed each other’s company. Their teacher was performing an exercise in futility by trying to get them to like one another. Sitting next to Kageyama only put him on edge.

As the professor took attendance and Hinata sat with a groan and plopped his chin down on his forearms, Kageyama would be attempting to fold a piece of paper from his notebook into a swan shape. While Hinata was chewing the eraser off the end of his pencil, Kageyama would be hiding his earbuds in his hair. While Hinata was fiddling with the blinds to his left trying to block out the sun, Kageyama would be kicking the leg of the desk in rhythm. When Hinata was attempting to take notes, Kageyama would be snoring. They learned to quietly coexist; two separate worlds beside each other.

It went on like this for a while, until the class started doing lab work. Then, it became a sort of game to see how they could get it done without talking. There were times when they were so dead-set on not letting their teacher win that they’d pass back and forth a piece of paper instead of communicating verbally. The teacher, of course, noticed this, and would fire a look their way, but did not give in.

The first and only time they broke the sacred rule of silence was when Sugawara showed them the hand signals they had to learn for training camp. Then, Kageyama had drawn them out with labels, and the two of them shared the piece of paper beneath the desk and took turns whispering them to the other as the teacher went on with the lesson, until they both had them all memorized. For a while Hinata was put off by the cooperative and secret interaction, until he realized he could file it under his “work relationship” category. It was just volleyball.

The professor, after a few months, seemed to understand that the two of them just weren’t going to be friends, and stopped trying to directly coerce them into interacting—but he never moved their seats. Till the day they graduated, the two of them sat next to each other.

After a certain realization, Hinata couldn’t bring himself to complain anymore: the chairs were put up on the desks every night, and every morning Kageyama was there first, and every morning Hinata’s chair was down too. There would be a room full of chairs on desks, then Kageyama sitting, and then the chair next to him down on the floor. If Hinata was the next person to enter the room, Kageyama wouldn’t look up. Hinata would go and sit in the chair and not mention it, and not think about it very hard.

There was once a morning that Hinata was there first, and he put Kageyama’s chair down for him too. (Quickly, in case Kageyama came in and saw him doing it.) Kageyama had entered the room and sat down in it, and didn’t say anything or look at him. Hinata denied that he was disappointed.

For months, Kageyama kept fidgeting and Hinata kept snoozing and they continued to silently coexist in that Biology classroom, not acknowledging the other and doing their best to not think about the other, until inevitability struck and their worlds began to intermingle. Hinata would fall asleep with an arm flopped over Kageyama’s notebook, or Kageyama would draw a volleyball person with a face suspiciously like Hinata’s, or Hinata would kick the desk, and Kageyama would kick the desk, until they had a pattern going and neither stopped until the bell rung and class was over. Hinata would look over him as they were packing up, hoping for some sort of acknowledgement, but Kageyama never seemed to look back.

Hinata made a brave move one morning and when a big flock of crows had perched outside the second-story window and were pecking and flopping around in direct view, he prodded Kageyama’s arm and made him look. After many seconds of staring in silence, Kageyama pointed and whispered: “That one’s Tanaka.” Hinata had to hide his laughter; from the teacher or from Kageyama he didn’t know.

When the last week of school rolled around and Hinata found himself inexplicably dejected at the lack of off-court interaction between him and his classmate, he vowed that he wouldn’t let on. He promised himself that he’d act normal and walk into his morning class and smile at the professor, and go and silently take his seat, which was always down for him. Maybe, he allowed himself, on the last day he’d thank Kageyama for putting it down for him all year.

This plan was blown to bits when Hinata stumbled into his morning classroom on the last day, bleary-eyed and half-awake, and laid eyes on Kageyama, who was crouched beneath their desk carving something into inner edge of it. It took Hinata several moments of staring to speak.

“Kageyama?”

The boy looked up like a deer in headlights. “Shit, Hinata,” he said, and banged his head on the bottom of the desk. “Fuck—”

“Kageyama, what the hell are you…” Hinata scurried over, now very much awake, and pulled the desk forward so that Kageyama could emerge. This was a jarring break of their morning ritual, and Hinata couldn’t deny that he was excited. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just…” Kageyama rubbed the back of his head, gripping the side of a chair. “I’m not doing anything.” He was crouched by the desk with a dull pencil in hand, cheeks burning red.

To Kageyama, this was their space, their desk and their chairs, that one crack in the floor that Hinata loved to scuff his sneakers over and make noise, that missing panel in the blinds that let the two of them stare at the sunrise through on cold days. It was cumulative, the entire space and the entire time they spent there. It was silent and unspoken, but it was a weird form of companionship. Kageyama had felt it all along.

“What?” Hinata was watching him, backpack still on.

He looked up, worrying his lip. “I wanted to write something, I wanted to commemorate…” The boy was tripping over his words, shaking his newly bruised head.

“What?” Hinata quickly shrugged off his backpack and crouched down to Kageyama’s level. “What were you doing?” He leaned forward to see under the desk, hand pressed against the leg.

“It’s nothing—” Kageyama muttered, reaching to grab the back of Hinata’s shirt.

“Oh my god, is that supposed to be—”

“Nothing!”

“That’s our names!” Hinata whipped his head around to look at him just as Kageyama got a hold of his shirt. They both froze. This was new.

“It’s just because the teacher stuck us here,” Kageyama quickly recovered and let go. “if some kid sees it, well then maybe they’ll—” He scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe it’ll have some sort of meaning—”

Hinata’s mouth was hanging open; he’d let go of the leg of the desk. He was blushing furiously. “Meaning? Kageyama! Kageyama, this is—”

“Oi! It’s nothing!” Kageyama pointed a finger at him. “It’s just because the teacher stuck us here together for so long, I wanted to make some sort of dumb memento.” His cheeks were a lying shade of red.

Hinata stared at him in utter shock. There was something bubbling inside of him. “Really?”

To Hinata, it was a startling thought that the two of them had been led together because of this. After all, the teacher’s intention was to get them to communicate, and all year they’d been avoiding just that, but now the two of them were crouched together beneath their desk starting at each other all flustered wondering what on earth they’d actually been doing all this time. 

“Have we… bonded, or something?” Hinata asked the question directly, since Kageyama was still there just blushing at him.

“What—” Kageyama hit his head on the bottom of the desk again. “Fuck!”

“Kageyama, shut up. Stop,” He reached out to try and get his attention. “Have we bonded?”

Kageyama ducked and rubbed his head. Had they? Even though they hadn’t spoken? It had been confirmed to him long ago now that Hinata had picked up on his habit of putting down his chair for him, when Hinata returned the favor. Kageyama, in truth, had been late on that day on purpose, just to see if he would do it. His plan to write their names on the bottom of the desk had been in the back of his mind for a long time. Kageyama now stared at the the boy meekly, who was crouched with a hand bracing himself against the leg of the desk. Whatever sunlight that shone beneath seemed to be attracted to him; shining against his shoulders and his face, illuminating the earnest question he’d so plainly asked. “Kageyama—” Hinata began.

“Yeah, we have, we’ve bonded,” Kageyama said, because he could not lie to such a boy.

Hinata let go of the desk with his hand. There was a frozen moment of fear between them, just as Hinata’s hand started to move. “Kageyama?” He said, and reached out. There was a slight smile on his face. “I knew it all along.”

Kageyama, slowly, as a wordless answer to Hinata’s invitation, linked their hands together. He was still beet red. “Knew what?”

Hinata let out a breathy laugh before speaking. This was their first deliberate connection. “That we’re cool! That we secretly both thought, all along... We secretly both—You’re… cool.

Kageyama had to recover for a moment. “That’s—I’m cool?”

Hinata scrambled to redeem himself. “And you’re good at volleyball.”

“We already know that, dumbass.”

“And…” Hinata tipped his head to one side, a cheeky grin appearing. “I think that you’re probably really sweet—”

“I am not sweet.”

“I’ll pretend that you are.” He sucked in a breath, and let it out with his eyes wide, like some sort of grand realization. This was all new. “Oh my gosh, we should  _ hang out. _ ”

“Yeah, well—” Kageyama was still stuttering. It was like staring at the sun, Hinata up close like this. He was still reeling at the fact that the other boy felt the same way, all along. That he wanted to be friends. All they had to do was talk about it. “Yeah.” He breathed.

“We should!” Hinata’s grin seemed to double in size with the grip of his hand tightening. “And I bet you’re totally cool to hang out with, and that we’ll totally like each—” Hinata bashed his head on the bottom of the desk. 

“Fuck—” Kageyama reached out instinctively to steady him.

“Hey wait—”

“No, don’t—”

“Hinata, dumbass—”

“Shut up!” Hinata had grabbed Kageyama’s sleeve, starting to laugh. “Shut up, Kageyama, I’m fine,” they were tipping to one side together.

Kageyama tensed, smiling despite himself. “We’re going to fall over.”

Hinata lurched them the rest of the way to the floor, taking the younger boy with him forcibly. “Doesn’t matter, you’re cool!”

Kageyama, now floored, raised an eyebrow. “And I think you need an ice pack for your head.”

Hinata’s laugh was devastatingly bright. Kageyama hadn’t really heard it before. “We can focus on that later!” He reunited their hands, and something warm rushed itself up in Kageyama’s chest. He gripped back hard.

Hinata was grinning right at him, the promise of something new. “Tell me all about yourself!”


End file.
